It's All in Your Head
by TygerTygerCrimsonTears
Summary: Red John has kidnapped Lisbon - And Jane is the only one that believes that she's still alive. He needs to save her, and kill Red John in the process. The problem is, no one is helping him. He has to do this on his own, because it isn't all in his head. XxxFINISHEDxxX Jeez I love you all!
1. Chapter 1

[A/N:** So last night I watched the movie Gone, and I thought, "Woah. This could totally be a Red John episode in Mentalist!" And I absolutely could not get this out of my head! So, here you go.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist or Gone. Unfortunately for me, fortunately for you. xD]**

Teresa Lisbon's eyes flashed open and she breathed hard. She felt the duct tape over her mouth, her bound wrists and ankles. She twisted and writhed as a red-masked man loomed over her. Red John. She screamed against her duct tape. Was this man a copycat? she wondered, remembering back to Jane's descriptions of how he kills his victims. The last time she checked, he didn't bound and gag them.

When John tipped his knife into Lisbon's arm and cut a deep cut from shoulder to a little past her elbow, dark circles swam before her eyes. _Where the heck is Jane when I need him?_

_ What is going to happen to me?_

_0o0_

Patrick Jane sauntered into the bullpen the next morning, sipping a cup of tea the next morning. "Say, where're Cho and Lisbon?" he asked."Lisbon's been out of office all morning, and Cho is getting a fax from downstairs, directed to you." Rigsby reported.

At that moment, Cho came back into the offices. "Jane." he tossed a thin manilla envelope to Patrick.

"Morning, Cho."Jane greeted. He caught the envelope midair and sank into his couch, pulling out three thin sheets of paper while grinning cheekily to himself.

Patrick read over the papers, and his grin dropped. Jane's face paled, and he started to shake. He let the slips fall from his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Jane? You okay?" Rigsby asked. Grace knelt beside Patrick, laying a comforting hand on his arm. Rigsby gathered the fallen papers, and Cho stood in the background, silent.

Rigsby, looked over the pages. "Guys, he said in a near whisper, "You need to see this."

Grace rushed to Rigsby's side, letting concerned officers from other teams care to the shattered teacup and the already recovering Jane. Cho stood from behind, looking over Rigsby's shoulder.

The first sheet of paper had typing on it. Grace read aloud,

**Dear Mister Jane,**

**Let the games begin.**

The second piece of paper confirmed the author of the fax. It was grainy, but you could planly see a small, familiar brunnette figure laying on a bed with a dripping blood-red smile above it.

The third, and perhaps most frightening, paper had two clear images on it. The first was a photo of Lisbon, gagged and bound, but otherwise unharmed. The fear in her eyes, however, was clearly noticeable. The other image was, again, of the Senior Special Agent, once again bound and gagged, however, she had suffered from a deep cut on her arm and two bulletshots: One on her right shoulder and one on her left. Teresa was either unconscious...or...all refused to think the alternative.

The three junior agents reactions were all different. Grace was crying silently, her hand covering her mouth, Rigsby was visibly troubled, and Cho was silent, stone faced and pale.

All three jumped, however, when Jane stood from his couch. "I need to go find her body first."He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and slipped away.

"I'll go get Hightower." Cho took the papers from Rigsby, taking off.

"Not boss...not boss.." Grace cried in a whisper.

Wayne broke out of his shock, handing Grace a tissue and awkwardly draping an arm over her shoulder. "It'll be okay..."

Xxxx

**[A/N: I feel like that was really not well written. I promise the next chapter will be better. xD]**


	2. Chapter 2

[A/N:** Thanks to those who followed and/or favorited this story! Y'all are awesome!:)**

** Thank you to my awesome first reviewer, Aribiata ! This chapter is dedicated to you!**

** Disclaimer: I wished upon a star that I would own Mentalist. Unfortunately, my wish hasn't come true yet.]**

When forensics and the team arrived at Agent Lisbon's household, they found Patrick Jane sitting on a chair at one end of her bed, staring. Staring at what exactly? Well, it was nothing really. The thing was - Lisbon's body was gone. Kaput. Not where it should be.

Grace lay a hand on Jane's shoulder. Cho stood with a vague look of uncertainty, his lips twitched slightly in a frown.

"Did Red John take her body or something?" asked Rigsby from the doorway.

"Looks that way." reported Cho.

"No." Jane said quietly. Then, louder. "No. You are all wrong. Teresa is still alive. She's out there somewhere." He jumped to his feet. Patrick usually wasn't one to lose his temper this quickly, but today had been a really bad day. Deep down, Jane knew he had to break down eventually. And this had been the last straw.

"Patrick..." Van Pelt started.

"Don't 'Patrick' me!" Jane bellowed.

"Jane. She's gone." Cho looked the curly-haired consultant in the eye, his face stony. Jane could still tell he was miserable though. _Why are they being so quick to jump to conclusions? _Jane asked himself, infuriated.

"Red John's doing this to mess with you, Jane. You need to," Rigsby's voice cracked, "Accept that Boss is not coming back. You saw the pictures!"

Jane shook his head. "No, no no no. You are all wrong. She's somewhere out there. I would know if she was dead." Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I would _know!"_

"You need to calm down, Jane." Grace soothed in the way only she could. It didn't work on Jane, though. Not this time..

"I'm perfectly calm!" Jane shouted, rushing out the door. "I'm going to go find her! I swear on my daughter's grave," he turned his gaze up, "I will find you!" he stormed out of the home, brakes screeching as he sped away in his Citereone. **[A/N Sorry if I spelled it wrong or if it's not the actual name of his car...I'm bad with cars. xD]**

"He never swears on his daughter's grave..." Van Pelt murmured.

Xxxx Three days later xxxX

Jane vowed this would be the last time he would pick up his phone, but even in his breakdown state Patrick knew he would keep answering, just in case _he_ called.

However, before Jane could even say hello, a familiar serious voice ordered through the phone. "Jane, you need to come back."

"I told you, Cho. I'm going to find her. She's alive! I know she's alive!"

"Jane, you need help. We need to get you to a hospital, where you can be taken care of. You've been labeled as mentally ill. It's official now." Cho informed him.

"Maybe I should just shoot myself now, save you the trouble! Huh? Is that what you want? I'm sure as _heck_ it's what Red John wants!"

"Jane, you shouldn't have a gun with you."

"What else am I supposed to kill him with?" Jane scoffed into the reciever.

"Jane, you need to come back. Now. It's all in your head. She's dead, Jane."

"She's not dead. She's not."

"Her memorial service is today Jane. The least you could do know is come pay your re-" Patrick hung up before Cho could finish.

Jane pulled over on the side of the road, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his eyelids.

He wishes that he really were a psychic. He'd be able to communicate with Teresa. But there are no psychics.

Oh well. _Time to keep searching._

He starts up his car again. Calls Teresa's cell phone. No reply. He was expecting this, but it didn't hurt to try.

Actually, it did hurt. A Lot.

It hurt as bad as it did when Charlotte and Angela died.

No that he would admit that.

Not ever.


	3. Chapter 3

[A/N:** Yes. I did change my Pen name. I'm not comfortable disclosing why.**

**Reviews:**

**idonthaveaname-Sorry for the confusion, I don't really have a high knowledge on funerals and such. I edited the last chapter, chanigng it to Memorial service. So nope, they didn't find her body. :)  
**

**YulianaHenderson - Thanks for the name of Jane's car! I'm gonna try to make the chapters longer, and I'm glad that you like the story!  
**

**Disclamer: If I owned the Mentalist, it would be totally different from what it is now...]**

Jane didn't know where he was driving, and he didn't really care. He had no slight idea where Red John could be hiding Lisbon. No idea.

He should have guessed this would happen. Should have guessed he would take her. Red John knows just where to shoot, and hit bullseye every time. And Red John knew that if he simply kidnapped Teresa instead of killing her, Jane would be in so much more pain, so much more willing to fall into a trap...And that's why he had kidnapped Lisbon, in Jane's point of view. It didn't even process through Patrick's head that the brunette agent might be dead by now.

And so Jane found himself at the drugstore, buying a camera. Why? he supposed his subconscious knew. But right now he was numb, floating around like he had for the last few days. He eyed the cashier coldly with a hint of jealousy. She had such an easy life. Not ridden by revenge and anger.

"That would be $10.75." she blinked at him with her long lashes. Jane guessed that the girl was maybe seventeen or eighteen. Her name began with a...K? No, an M. Patrick predicted that her name was Makia, her nickname Kia. A glance at the girl's nametag confirmed it. Makia was from..Korea. Yes, that's it. She was adopted, and has six, no, seven, older brothers and sisters in her adopted family. Patrick could tell because of the way she held herself. Strong, poised and frightened of the world. She's graduating from highschool in June, and was applying to...a dozen colleges? That sounds about right. She wants to be a photographer. He could tell from the necklace hanging from her neck with a miniature red camera on the end. Smart career choice. Nobody holds grudges against photographers.

_So maybe I haven't lost my touch..._ Jane mused, smiling depsite himself.

"Sir?" Makia's voice broke him out of his trance.

"Oh, sorry, Kia." Jane grinned at her, his heart half in it, and paid, taking the small camera from her. "By the way, I hope you get into a good college. Photography is a fine life choice."

Makia glanced at him, puzzled. She took a small step back, towards the cash register, "Sorry, sir. But I couldn't shoot photos for my life. I'm an actress.."

Jane's face drooped. "Oh. My mistake. An honest one, really." His shoulders slumped and he left the store._ So much for not losing my touch._ he told himself.

Jane climbed back into his car. if anything, the encounter with young Makia woke him up, made him see where he was going with this. He realzed that if he wanted Red John to call him, to tell him where to find Lisbon, he needed to be where Red John wanted him to be.

So, he pulled into his driveway. Decied to go through the same process he did almost every night. He took his mail from the mailbox, tossed in on the counter. Someday he would read through that mail, he told himself, someday. He climbs up the stairs, pretends that Charlotte and Angela are still alive, waiting for him to get home.

He opens the master bedroom door, sees the smile. The red grin that greets him when he gets home from work, the replacement for his daughter and wife's beautiful smiles.

But tonight Patrick takes out his camera, snapping a photo of the deep red smirk that taunts him.

_Sweet, sweet, my darling angel. Where have you gone? Where have you gone?_ he hums Angela's favorite song.

But this time, he thinks about Angela, and Teresa. They were both his angels.

**[A/N: Don't own the song either. The song doesn't have a name, but it's a song in the book The Anybodies. I thought it very well fit this situation.]****_  
_**

He recalls dancing with Angela, swaying in the kitchen when Charlotte was fast asleep. He remembers dancing with Lisbon at that high school reunion. He looks back at both memories with the equal amount of fondness.

He doesn't try to sleep on his foam pad like he usually does, but instead climbs back into his car_. _Neither does he sleep sitting up in his car like he has for the last three days. Tonight, he drove to Teresa's house.

He lifts the yellow and black _Police line: Do not cross _tape, gingerly walking up her lawn. He continues to hum, picking her lock easily and letting himself in.

Jane sets a teakettle of water to boil on the stove, opening Lisbon's cupboard and choosing the tea that helped him think. He needed something to stimulate his brain, that's for sure.

Patrick floats down the hallway, entering her bedroom. He takes out his camera, snapping a picture of his other red smiley face, the one that deepened his need for vengeance. _Sweet, sweet, my darling angel... _He sits on the edge of her bed, looking around her plain-styled room.

Gingerly, he removes his wedding band from his finger, studying it. Silver, plain, with ridges along the sides.

Something catches his eye. He carefully pulls out a small book, sleek and black, leather bound from under her nightstand. A pocketbook? No. A diary.

Jane smirked, chuckling slightly. Heexits her bedroom, running his thumb around the bottom fringe. When he enters the kitchen, the whistle is blowing on the pot. He takes it off the stove, setting the diary on the counter while he poured the scalding water into a teacup.

Sitting at the table, Jane used one hand to dunk the teabag into the teacup, the other to open Lisbon's journal. The first page was blank, but the next was filled with Teresa's scrawling, yet small handwriting. Patrick read the first entry carefully._  
_

_10.14.11_

_The new boss, Wainwright, arrived today. He can't be more than a year or two older than me. Jane tried to impress him, that Nut. It's all right though. He closes cases. (BY THE WAY, I KOW YOU'RE READING THIS, JANE!)_

Jane smiled to himself. _Closes cases, you bet. _He knew Lisbon had feelings for him. He could see in her eyes that she did.

Patrick jumped when his phone rang, the journal falling to the floor and his tea spilling. Catching his breath, he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hi Patrick!" a young, feminine voice said.**[A/N: No, this is not Hailey, but I always assumed Red John had more than one little girl to torment Jane.] **

"H-h-hello?" Jane panted.

"My friend John told me to call you." the young girl told him through the phone. "He said that he would contact you in one hour, Patrick. Only one hour! Then all your pain and suffering will be...over." The girl hung up.

_One hour? _Patrick asked himself_._ _One more hour..._

He only hoped Teresa would be alive when he found her.

**[A/N: I posted a poll on my profile about Lisbon's state when Jane finds her. So, if you want to, go and vote!]**

**[Also, I'll start gradually lengthening chapters.]**


	4. Chapter 4

**[A/N: Thank to the three who voted, and idonthaveaname, who voted over review! You guys are awesome!**

**Polls are still open! (Just saying)**

**Disclaimer: I'm a girl. Nuff said.]**

**Jane lay his phone down, thinking. Just one hour, and he wuld be contacted. He stared at his abandoned tea, one hand still clutching the handle, theother had dropped to rest ontop of Teresa's diary.**

**In one sudden movement, he broke out of his trance, gulping dow his now lukewarm tea. Taking Lisbon's journal with him, he quicl made three sandwiches, settling down in the same chair he had hypnotized the brunette in. He recalls it fondly, but the events afterwards...not so much. He had considered setting free those events, but decided against it.**

**Stating on his first sandwich, he again propped open Isbon's journal. He continued reading the entry from the fewmonhs ago, humming slightly.**

**_...I don't really mind that he's an immature idiot, though. He's just using it as a mask to hide his inner pain. I know. I've seen him on a Red John case. And afterwards, when he's sitting on his couch, sipping tea like he's fine, I want to take his hand. (JANE, STOP. READING. NOW.) I want to tell him that it's gonna be okay, that I'm there for him._  
**

**_But I can't really do that. He would crack a joke, ruin the moment. And I highly doubt he's ready for a relationship. he still wears his weddng band, for Pete's sake._**

**_(Hey, Jane. I know you read that. Just remember. The fight is long, but you are strong. Carry on. For me. Please?)_**

**Jane felt choked up for the first time since three days ago. And three days ago it was the first time in nine years.**

**He polished off his second sandwich. Patrick felt full, but he started on the third sandwich. It might be his last meal, he reminded himself, so he should make the most of it. Halfway through the sandwich though, he decided against consuming the rest. Instead, he wrapped it in plastic wrap, slipping it into his coat pocket. When he found Lisbon, he would give it to her. In the other pocket, Teresa's diary was placed, the little fringe poking out.**

**And when the phone rang, he was ready. **

**"Hello?"**

**"Helo, Mister Jane."**

****[A/N: So I didn't really know how to do the whole Jisbon-journal thing. xD So sorry if her journal is totally OOC. Also, sorry this chapter is so short, I didn't want to seem overdescriptive, and I wanted Jane chasing Red John to start at the beginning of a chapter.]


	5. Chapter 5

**[A/N: Polls are closed. :] (It's so hard to do an evil smile...) Thank you thank you thank you (times three plus one) to the six users who voted!**

**And super special awesome opossum thanks to Superpicklechops and GraceVanPeltFan4Ever for reviewing!**

**So, this chapter is gonna be Lisbon's POV. Heheh, it's gonna be fun.**

**Diclaimer: Nope. Not mine.]**

Pain.

It's the first thing that registers in her mind. A deep, dark, unbearable pan. Next, she Opens her eyes, remembers where she is. A deep, dark, cold hole.

The pain is everywhere. In her shoulders, her wrists, her ankles, her stomach. Her throat. she remembers the night before, unwillingly, sure. But still, she remembers.

_"Oh, Teresa!" The cold, chilling, nasally voice frightened her. But still, she did not have the strength to do anything but curl in a ball._

_"I've brought you something to drink!" Oh no. Not this, not this! She wishes he would show his face. But once again, he only appears at the top of the hole, where the sun blinds her from seeing him. "Drink this." he instructs, lowering down a cup on a rope. A blueish liquid sloshes against the clear lid. "Drink it now."_

_She smells it. Ammonia. She wrinkles her nose. "Now, Teresa." She takes a sip. Almost throws up. Again._

_"I want you in the worst state possible, Teresa," he starts the speech he tells her every night. "So then, when Mister Jane comes, he'll see you. And you know what he'll do? He's going to see how much pain you're in and he's going to beg me to kill you. He will. and then I'll oblige, and me and Mister Jane will become friends. Forever."_

I seriously doubt that, _Lisbon thought. But, like the many evenings before, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she ties back on the resealed cup with shaky, clumsy fingers._

_Next, Red John stands up over the hole, with another cup. Lisbon knows this one is full of water. Filthy riverwater, but it's water. "And here's another drink."_

_Red John splashes down the water, keeping the cup. He walks off, laughing his laugh._

_She kneels, sucking the water from the dirt. She wonders when she'll have the courage to stop doing it, to just die of thirst._

_And then she remembers. The promise she made to herself. And Teresa Lisbon always keeps her promises._

_She knew the gunshot wounds would become infected. She knew in the back of her mind, ever since the night when she had dug out the bullets, painfully and slowly._

_So she focused on her team. Focused on Cho's slight twitch of his lips that had as much emotion as Rigsby's grin, Van Pelt's shy, sweet smile. And Jane. Jane's sharp, angled, sun tanned face. With the deep, mesmerizing blue eyes and his grin. The real grin, not the fake._

_So she remembers the man she accidently fell in love with, remembers how wonderful he is._

_This is what she remembers as she takes her thumbs, and places them on the sides of her right shoulder's bullet wound._

_She thinks of him as she silently counts to three and presses, presses with all her might. She holds in her screams, instead silently crying. She doesn't want the punishment for screaming again. But still she she presses, presses,_ presses_ until she can tell the pus is gone._

Half way done, _She reminds herself. _Halfway done.

She remembers it all, staring at her blood caked fingers, shovng her hair back. She puhes the sleeve of her tank top back onto her shoulder. She lets a tear or two leak from her eyes. Torture. what an ugly word. She hates it. Very much.

Very, very much.

Xxxx

Lisbon knows it's about time for her evening drink. But this time, Red John seems to be talking to someone.

"I have her here, with me. Mister Jane, I don't think she'll last for another day or two... Oh? You want proof? anything for you, Mister Jnae." Then, into her hole, he shouts, "Say something, you brat!"

"Uuuhhh.." Lisbon musters up the strength to stand. "Jane..." she says as loud as she could, which is barely more than a whisper.

"You hear that, Mister Jane? Good. Now, don't hang up. If you hang up...she's dead."

Lisbon heard the familiar loading of a gun. and then, right above her head, the barrel of a pistol pointed down at her.

"As for you, Teresa," Red John told her. "Don't move."

Don't worry, she thinks, I won't.

But you can forget, she continues in her head, about Jane begging you to kill me. I'm about to do it myself.


	6. Chapter 6

[A/N:** I usually don't dedicate chapters, but this chapter is dedicated to YulianaHenderson, who's review made me laugh (even though that might not have been the intention). It was more of a Mwahahahardyhargiddyhar laugh instead of a Hahahaha laugh. If you know what I mean...**

**I'd also like to give uber thanks to Superpicklechops for reviewing (I suggest reading their story "Back to School," it's amazing)!**

**Suberbly thanks to GraceVanPeltFanForever for also reviewing! I higly reccommend her story "Auburn Sisters." It's so epic!**

**Disclaimer: My wish has not come true, so I don't own Mentalist. Yet.]**

"Where are you?" Jane asked through gritted teeth.

"Now, now, Mister Jane. Let's not get harsh. Remember...I have her here, with me." His voice was playful. Teasing, even.

"Give me proof. You give me proof, and I'll...Look, just give me proof."

"Anything for you, Mister Jane." There was slight jostling, some nonunderstandable yelling, and finally, the phone was still. Jane listened closely.

"Jane..." the word was barely heard, and only someone with Jane's heghtened senses would have heard it, and only Jane wuld understand how much meaning and feelings were packed into those words.

She didn't want him to come. She wanted him to save himself. But most of all, Jane heard three words. Just three. _I love you, _she was saying, _I love you._

"There. Now do exactly as I say, Mister Jane. Because anything happens, if you hang up...She's dead."

Jane gulped. "I know."

"Get in your car." Red John instructed.

Jane did as he was told, walking out the door. As he was fastening his seatbelt (just in case), his phone beeped. He glanced at it.

Grace was calling. Jane already knew what she was going to say. She was going to tell him to come back, beg him, plead him. Everyone knew the red-head had a special place in Patrick's heart. Not the same as Lisbon, though. Not the same. It was more like he had to protect her, because, in all things sensible, Grace Van Pelt was pure. And he wanted her to stay that way.

So he turned on his car, ignoring the other call. "Okay," he said into the phone.

"Drive to the corner of the street. Now turn right..."

Xxxx

Five hours later, dawn broke. Jane tried to keep his phone from unplugging from the charge cord, bending down while still attempting to see over the steering wheel.

"Good." Red John said. "You should see a sign that says 'No trespassing' with a bright red fence."

"I see it." **[A/N: At first I thought I would stop the chapter here and be evil. But I decided against it. :D]**

"Good. Get out of your car." Jane did as he was told. "Open the gate, then get back in your car and go through."

The gate was creaky, rusty.

When Jane got back in his car, the voice continued."Keep going until you reach the end of the road."

"Am I almost there?" asked Jane.

"Closer than you think...Get out of your car. And Mister Jane, leave the gun on your seat. and the car kys. I'll know if you don't. I'll know."

Jane gulped. "Okay." his voice cracked as he ducked out of his car, obediently leaving his gun and car keys. He knew it wa nearly impossible without the gun, but he needed to keep Teresa alive. for her, for him (for us? he wonders).

"You will see a trail going into the woods. Follow it."

Jane began to go down the trail, his blood pounding in his ears. So. He was finally going to do it, huh? Patrick Jane would finally be free from Red John. And, he would be saving Lisbon's hide for once.

He wasn't sure if he was ready, though. What if something went wrong? What if Red John had somehow killed Lisbon without Jane hearing over the phone? What if? What if?

But he knew he had to take that risk, to ignore all the calls from his friends and colleagues telling him Lisbon was dead, it was all a trap, he's going to get himself killed.

That it was all in his head.

All of the sudden, Jane's phone beeped. He glanced at it.

He'd lost connection.

And, even more frightening, he was at the end of the trail.

**[A/N: Next chapter will be the last chapter, then there will be an epilogue. Do you think I should do a sequel? Please tell me. :D]**


	7. Chapter 7

[A/N:** Sorry i didn't get this chapter up yesterday, I was going to, but I was busy. Sorry!**

**Just a warning, things get a little...not gory, but bloody in this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.]**

Jane looked from right to left, up to down. And, in the distance, he saw something reflecting. Was that? Yes. It was a tent.

He jogged towards it, keeping his eyes and ears (and nose) open. When he ducked in, he glanced at the walls, at the ground.

An immediately, he fell to his knees, gulping.

On a wall of the tent, at least thirty pictures were taped, and all had one woman on it. And those women were dead. Jane's eyes scanned the pictues, looking for something, but at the same time not wanting to find it.

There. A picture of an auburn haired woman. Angela.

Jane, shaking, tore off the photograph. She was lying in their bed, her eyes still open, still fearful. Cuts, messy, bloody cuts were all over her. All over.

Jane squeezed his eyes shut. When they opened again, they fell on another picture.

This one had a girl, maybe four or five. Her eyes were also open, full of pure terror. Her curls were crusted with the blood that seemed to still be flowing from her throat and chest.

Jane trembled, not crying. He was out of tears. Gingerly, he traced his gaze down the line of pictures, trying not to be sick.

There was one thing different about the bottom one. It showed a petite, brunette figuure that Patrick instantly recognized.

But this woman was alive.

Jane, too, tore off that photo. When he turned around to get the _heck_ out of there, he almost jumped in suprise and terror.

The wall by the door was covered with more photographs. But these pictures...

...were of him. It showed him everywhere, from the sidewalks, to investigating a dead body, to the CBI offices. One even showed him in his own home.

It was this, this last straw, that made Jane ready. Ready to kill Red John once and for all.

And to have a smile (a crying smile) while doing it.

Xxxx

As Jane continued to amble carefully around, Red John was getting ready. He had left Lisbon in her hole, bound and gagged (not to mention blindfolded), and was getting ready to capture Patrick Jane.

That is, until (speak of the devil) Patrick tricked him. It was a lucky chance, a once in a lifetime (or death) opportunity.

And Red John ended up in a hole, one that he had dug himself.

Irony.

Pure irony.

Xxxx

Jane felt lucky to have saw Red John from his back, first. As the serial killer was gazing into a hole (Jane realizes now it could have been Lisbon's, but it wasn't, so all's well that ends well), Jane had snuck up behind him, and just shoved him.

And one push, hardly more than a nudge, had ended a villainous reign. Ended it forever.

Unluckily (or luckily, depends on how you see it), Red John's neck didn't break when he landed. It was then, when the serial killer glanced up at Patrick, that Red John realized.

He had made a mistake.

"Hello, Mister Jane," the man managed to say. His leg hurt, it was most likely broken.

Jane didn't reply. He located a tank of kerosene, ruthlessly pouring it into the hole, making sure to hit Red John's face, especially.

Red John (a cowardice, really, as Jane suspected he would be) widened his eyes. In a last attempt to survive, he gasped, "Please don't kill me! I'll tell you where she is if only you please don't kill me! All I've wanted is to be your friend! Please!"

Jane's eyes were stony, but they slowly crumbled. His gaze was soon almost soft. As he tossed the empty kerosene tub away, he knelt before the deep hole.

His tears fell freely as he whispered, "I believe you. I believe you. But if you're lying..." he let threat hang.

"Oh Mister Jane! I knew you would come around! Thank you! I'll tell you now, she's in the hole two to the right. the first one to the right, well, don't look in it." Red John grinned at him like the madman he was (the pain must have been blinding him, has Red John ever made a mistake (let alone two in a row)? Or maybe was it a final last attempt to save himself?).

And then, Patrick stood. His gaze had returned from soft as a marshmallow to cold as two dark blue shards of ice. "Thanks." he grunted menacingly.

As he took the lantern (it was Red John's own light that was his demise), and held it over the hole.

"You, you liar! You said you wouldn't kill me!" Red John whimpered.

Jane, untterly disgusted for this weak, cowardly excuse for a serial killer (and a man, really), simply stated, "I lied."

And then, he dropped the lantern, letting the fireball whoosh up behind him as he walked, one, two holes to the right. **[A/N: I'd just like to barge in and say sorry if you thought Red John was a little unrealistic. I imagine him as a coward, but you may not. But I do. So that's why he iwas one.]**

"Lisbon?" he peered into the dark hole. "Teresa? Are you down there?"

There was no reply, but Jane could make out a dark shape by the flames still tickling the night sky.

Quickly dropping down the ladder, Jane nimbly scrambled down into the damp hole.

"Lisbn?" he shook her slightly. Then, he realized she was blindfolded, gagged and bound. In her thin pajamas.. She was obviously unconscious, or...

He felt for a heartbeat.

Theere was none.

But wait! Yes. Here it was. A weak, barely there, yet steady beating. She was alive! She was alive...

Patrick gently unpeeled the duct tape from her eyes, wincing as hair from her eyebrows came off with it. Her lips, chapped to the extreme, were scraped raw. As he unwound the binds on her wrists and ankles, Lisbon groaned, slowly coming back to consciousness.

Whe he was finished unbinding her, Jane pulled her body close to him, wrapping her in a soft hug. "It's okay, Teresa." he whispered. "I'm here."

He easily slung her over one shoulder (she had lost a lot of weight in the past few days, he guessed she would stop that diet of hers, even though she shouldn't have been dieting anyway, she was the smallest, lightest agent in the division), carrying her (much like a fireman carries a victim) up the ladder. He laid her gently on the groun, just as the rain started to pour down.

Jane felt tired. More tired than he had ever felt. In fact, he simply collapsed, taking off his suit coat and covering Lisbon with it. All he wanted to do was sleep, for the first time in ten years.

It didn't occur to him that Lisbon might be dead by morning.

Xxxx

Jane felt truly sorry for the poor jogger who stumbled upon them in the morning. When the girl gently, curiously, worriedly, nudged Jane with her foot, he came back to consciousness almost immediately.

Cursing himself for falling asleep, he asked the jogger, "What's your name?"

"J-Jill..." the jogger stuttered, clearly frightened. "I thought I would try a new route today, and, and..." she began to cry.

Jane took no notice. Already starting to kneel by Lisbon, he told the young woman,"Jill, call 911."

Xxxx

Jane wouldn't allow the paramedics to even take his temperature until Lisbon was safely on a gurney, and in the amblance. Then, and only then, did he allow himself to surrender to the doctors so the could do their thing (he did it quite reluctantly, not much paying attention as they checked his vitals).

He was allowed to ride in the ambulance with Teresa, and he held her hand All the way.

Since he figured she wouldn't remember this in the next morning, he bent down, and kissed her forehead.

"It's all right..." he soothed. "You'll be fine..."

And with hid free hand, he grabbed his phone.

He had some calls to do.

**[A/N: Wow.I can't believe it's done. Well, not totally done. The epilogue will be up probably tomorrow, and then I'll post the first chapter of the sequel (Thank you to CookiesFoMe whoagreed that a sequel would be nice!). I hope you liked the ending... I wasn't to sure about it...Epilogue is up tomorrow!]**

**P.S. It's raining. **


	8. EPILOGUE

[A/N:** Wow. I don't even know how to start [I'm also really bad at this stuff - so it might not seem too heartfelt, but it is. :P). I'd like to thank all those who reviewed/followed/ and/or favorited this story, I probably would have quit long before if it weren't for y'all. You guys are amazing.**

**So I'm going to get up the sequel as soon as possible, and it's going to be called "Firecracker Red." Here's the summary:**

**"Jane thought that killing Red John would set him free, but it's far from it. When the Red John disciples personally take it upon themselves to kill everyone Jane loves, and maybe even him himself, Patrick realizes he might never be free from the crying smiley face. sequel to my story It's All in Your Head, but can be read alone. T for character death, suicide attempts, and mild Jisbon."**

**You got that right Character deaths and Jisbon. xD**

**Also, I suggest listening to the song "Dreams and Disasters" by Owl City while reading this chapter...]**

**One week later**

Jane had requested that he would be the one to bring Lsibon home from the hospital. Alone. He figured it would be fair, what did any of her other friends or family members do to help find her? Kaput.

But he was in too good a mood to feel anger towards anybody.

And, as he held open her door for her he realized he was going to drive, and he was going to go Lisbon speed. So super, super slow. But he didn't really care.

As they rode in silence, He kept his eyes on the road, controlling himself.

When Lisbon broke the ice, though, he almost crashed. Just two words.

"I remember." If Jane had had tea in his mouth, he would have spit it out.

She remembers...

He didn't need to ask what she meant, her tone of voice had said it all.

The kiss. It was only on the forehead, sure. But _his _lips touched _her _skin.

But, when Lisbon gently lay her hand, still frail, on his arm, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Everything would be all right (or so he thought).

**Xxxx**

When they arrived at the CBi offices (Lisbon had insisted to at least go to the office to see everyone), Jane could hardly contain his excitement (which wi saying a lot, he was Patrick Jae, for God's sake!).

And as he followed her into her office, he flickered on the light.

Here was Grace, holding up a poster that said, "Welcome Back!" (even though Rigsby had insisted it was cheesy and more back-from-church-camp message than a hey-sorry-I-didn't-believe-you-were-captued-by-a-serial-killer-until-Jane-called-me-and-told-me-you-were-in-the-back-of-an-ambulance poster. In fact, Rigsby didn't even want a poster. So, that had sparked an argument between the two, while Cho watched on with a small smile that only his friends could tell was a relief they were all wrong except Jane). Ad here was Rigsby, standing with a sheepish smile. And there was Cho, his lips twitching. And here was Tommy, James, and Noah.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Lisbon smiled. Cried and smiled.

AND...SCENE.

[P.S. In case you were wondering, the sequel will not be mainly a Jisbon story. But it will be there.]


End file.
